


Like He Means It

by valiantlybold



Series: Bounce A Coin Bingo [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Come Shot, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, and jaskiers damn good at it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26238250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valiantlybold/pseuds/valiantlybold
Summary: This is an inappropriate use of Geralt's enhanced hearing.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Bounce A Coin Bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905457
Comments: 13
Kudos: 366





	Like He Means It

Geralt is just about to settle in to meditate, when he hears it.

He sits in their room at whatever the hell this inn is called, in whatever the hell little shithole village they’re in currently, and Jaskier is downstairs. He’s been listening to Jaskier perform to the crowd in the downstairs tavern, humming along to himself since Jaskier’s out of earshot.

But Jaskier’s performance ended just a little while ago, and like always, the bard mingles with the crowd afterwards, enjoying a few more drinks before bed.

What’s strange, though, is that Jaskier, who is downstairs in a crowded tavern, is _talking to Geralt._

 _“I know you can hear me, darling. Don’t worry, everyone’s too drunk to notice the bard having a conversation with his cup of wine. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I know you can hear me, and that I hope you’re_ listening.”

Geralt relaxes out of his meditation pose, back hunching slightly.

He’s listening.

Jaskier keeps talking.

_“I don’t know why but all I could think about while performing was how badly I’d rather be choking on that glorious cock of yours.”_

Geralt swallows. He was not prepared for this.

_“I really don’t tell you often enough how much I appreciate that lovely thing. So long and thick... Mh, every time I take it, it feels like I’m a virgin taking it in the arse for the first time again. Makes me feel so full.”_

The topic of conversation (Geralt’s dick) becomes very interested in said conversation.

Fuck. Jaskier has _the filthiest_ little mouth, and Geralt _adores_ it.

_“Gods, how I wished you’d come down those stairs, shove me down on one of the tables, pull my trousers down, and fuck me senseless right in front of all these drunk fools. Wished you’d make me bounce on that pretty cock like the whores used to do.”_

Geralt grinds the heel of his palm down at his crotch; fuck, Jaskier gets him _too hard too fast._

_“But you don’t need to pay for whores anymore, do you? Not when you’ve got me, your very own personal little cum-slut.”_

Fuck it.

Geralt undoes the laces of his trousers and pulls his dick out; he spits in his hand and wraps it around his cock, stroking himself fast and hard.

 _“I just love it so much. Gods, what would my parents think? What would_ the public _think? Me, Viscount of Lettenhove, acting like any common little whore for a Witcher… Honestly, I don’t care what they think. All I care about is the fact that your cock is_ mine.”

Shit. This whole situation, the distance between them, where Jaskier is, where Geralt is, _who_ is with Jaskier, all of it, it makes Geralt rush to the brink very, very quickly and he doesn’t have the power to neither slow down nor stop.

 _“My whole body is yours, yes, but you are also_ mine. _Fuck, I’m getting all hot and bothered just thinking about you. Upstairs. Alone. Knowing you, you’ve probably got that wonderful cock in your hand, getting yourself off to just my voice, to the things I say.”_

Well, he’s not wrong.

The Witcher breaths come heavy. He’s splayed out, legs extended and trousers pushed down to his thighs, leaning back on his elbow, as he fucks into the tight grip of his own fist. Fuck, he wishes that idiot bard would just fucking walk up those stupid fucking stairs and do what he keeps fucking talking about and sit on Geralt’s fucking cock.

 _“I’ll be upstairs soon, my sweet Witcher,”_ Jaskier tells him, as though reading Geralt’s mind. _“Let’s see if you can hold it in until I finish my wine, yes? If you do, you’ll have the esteemed pleasure of cumming on my face, and I know how much you enjoy that.”_

Biting his lip, Geralt manages to force himself to _stop._ He squeezes gently at the base of his cock to stave off the orgasm. The head drips and leaks precum; he runs wet when he gets almost _too_ excited.

_“Don’t stop touching yourself, love.”_

He really _can_ read Geralt’s mind, can’t he?

_“I want you nice and close when I get there.”_

A groan wrenches itself free from Geralt’s throat. Fuck.

He takes himself in hand properly again. His strokes are slower now, though. He just needs to maintain. Stay close enough to the edge without tumbling over. That’s all.

Easier said than done.

_“I hope you’ll still have the strength to fuck me once you’ve painted my face.”_

Fuuuuuuck.

_“I know you only fucked me last this morning bit I already miss it. I miss feeling you inside me.”_

All the Gods damn this fucking bard and his stupid fucking mouth.

_“Maybe I should rent is the room for another night. We can spend all day in bed. I’ll torture you in all the ways you like best.”_

Oh, Gods, yessss.

_“Oh, look at that. I seem to have emptied my cup. Well, suppose I’ll have to retire for the night, then.”_

Yes, please.

_“Hm... Or do I fancy a refill?”_

That’s it. Geralt’s literally going to murder him.

_“Hm. No. No, I do think I shall call it a night, here. Won’t you be ready for me, darling, when I get there? Ready for me, to just kneel down and receive?”_

He sure as fuck is.

He heard Jaskier get up, start moving, heading towards the stairs.

Geralt gets to his feet as fast as he can, though the move is not as graceful as he usually is.

In just a few second, Jaskier comes through the door, and he does it with a grin and a fire in his eyes. The door shuts and locks behind him.

Without a word, he walks over and falls on his knees in front of Geralt.

And Geralt, fuck, Geralt neither _wants_ nor _can_ hold it back any longer.

Jaskier looks beautiful in white.


End file.
